When from death I'm free, I will sing

Sin. The disease that affects every single walking creature on the face of the earth. The disease that infects the very core of our being, and consumes the fibers that make up our physical body and our eternal soul. It isn't just a disease that makes us sick and weary – it is ingrained in our very nature and determines the outcome of our immortal souls.

Sin is unavoidable, incurable, and ultimately fatal.

As infants, we are born into this world of sin and misery. Our cries as babies are for our own selfish gain and comfort. As young children, we slowly come to grips with the fact that we sin, and we suffer the consequences. We lie. We cheat. We steal. We kill. And we hate the endless cycle of imperfection that we are stuck in. But every human being comes to the point where they realize that sin is impossible to avoid – so we give in. We embrace it. We enjoy it. We become it. We relish in it, and slowly but surely we find our identity in it.

We become so numb to sin that we don't even think of it as sin anymore. We don't realize the consequences. After all, it has become our identity, right? And besides...that eating disorder is just an issue, isn't it? So is my pride. And my selfishness. And my lust. And my discontentment. And my anger. All of these things are just issues. It is all “normal”.

We forget about the violent consequence of sin.

Romans 6:23 says, “...the wages of sin is death”. Okay, so we die. Big deal. That word DEATH means a whole lot more than just falling asleep in a grave and living immortally in a gray and hazy world where we see, hear, taste, and feel nothing. Death is a horrible, HORRIBLE thing.

“There will be weeping, and gnashing of teeth”. Luke 13:28. When was the last time you heard someone weep? True weeping shakes our soul, and grips our conscience like nothing else. It makes you want to protect and hold the wailing person, and keep them from experiencing whatever pain and suffering is affecting them.

Gnashing of teeth...what does that mean? It means pain. It means never ending darkness. It means spending eternity in unfathomable misery, without hope. The sinner in hell realizes that after spending centuries in that horrible darkness, he will not have one less second to spend there.

John Thomas writes, “No rest day and night. think of that. Thoughts of this happening to people we know, people like us, are too terrifying to entertain for long. The idea of allowing someone to endure such torture for eternity violates the sensibilities of even the most severe judge among us. We simply cannot bear it. But our thoughts of hell will never be as unmanageable as its reality. We must take this

doctrine of hell, therefore, and make sure we are practically affected by it.”

Hell is forever.

And hell is what you and I deserve.

For the Christian, a true understanding of hell and God's wrath should drive us to our knees. It should take away every sense of self worth and satisfaction we might possess. In 2^nd Corinthians it says, “God made Him who knew no sin to BE sin for us, so that in Him we might become the righteousness of God.”

What in incredible, un-fair trade. Jesus goes to hell and sends ME to heaven in His place. What wondrous love is this that caused the Lord of bliss to bear the dreadful curse for my soul?

Understanding Christ's sacrifice and my unworthiness is life-changing. It is soul-saving. And my tiny human mind cannot comprehend the debt I owe. And because of my inadequacy, all I can do is be overcome by thankfulness.

As the great hymn says,

“And when from death I'm free, I'll sing and joyful be...And through eternity I will sing.”

merry merry merry

I guess this post should be about Christmas. i should probably write my own creative and inspiring version of the nativity story, while sipping hot cider and listening to Amy Grant Christmas CD's.

...the truth of the matter is that Christmas was over yesterday, i feel fat and bloated from the absurd amounts of sugar i consumed, my hair is sticking up on end from static electricity, and i can hardly hear myself think because of the blaring sounds of Lord Of The Rings coming from the living room. I've played 4 rounds of monopoly in the past 24 hours and if i hear one more person say, "You owe me $7 million" i will scream and pitch a fit.

Did I mention we've been trying to go see a movie for the past 3 days, but something has come up every single time? Right now there is a good 3 inches of snow covering the entire city of atlanta. Bing Crosby didn't know what he was asking for when he sang "White Christmas". Every time you step outside you get cold and wet to the bone. Besides, no one in this entire state knows how to function in snowy weather, much less drive to the movie theater.

I guess i'll sit here soaking self pity and static electricity until the sun comes out on wednesday.

Love this photo - pure joy at being 11 years old without a care in the world.

he gets way too much attention for his own good...

When sitting at the dinner table, Dad was telling a story and he used the expression "left high and dry". After explaining what this means to Bryant, the little guy thought for a second and then said..."why wouldn't you say 'low and wet' instead?" :)


in other news...Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

tribute to the red hot tomale

Recently I've been blogging about what is on my mind and heart recently. therefore, I am going to keep up the tradition and write about what is on my mind and my heart today. It is sitting in the driveway. It is red, has a white strawberry-looking design on the side, and bounces like a trampoline every time it hits a bump in the road. No, i'm not talking about a wheelbarrel. I'm talking about the automobile that has been my number one means of transportation for FOUR long years.

Dodge Caravan, 1997. Now before you begin to laugh at me for being a teenager driving a mini van, let me show you a glimpse of it in its days of glory.

Don't be fooled by such a new and shining car- this red beauty doesn't have air conditioning in the back seat. But you wouldn't believe the system in this automobile....it survived 2 teenage drivers and it can still blast a beat with the bass turned up like a brand new sports car. A miracle, if you ask me.

Nevermind the fact that it has a leak under the front windshield, and a whole ocean of water is stored behind the glove compartment every time it rains. Oh and did i mention that the roof is caving in, and there is so much moisture in the car that duct tape won't hold it up? It has new tires though - thats a plus. It also has bucket seats that I vividly remember fighting over with my siblings in younger days.

This car got the name hot tomale my junior year of highschool. Who wouldn't name a fiery red mini van that barrels around recklessly "hot tomale"? Fits perfectly if you ask me.

It has seen many days of glory. Countless teenagers have come and gone. Many trips to the movies, mall, football games, and even prom. Yes - prom. Tabby took it to prom her junior year of highschool. Here is photographic evidence.

I wrecked it into the side of the garage my senior year and it has a scratch on the side that resembles the shape of a strawberry...or a fish...or whatever illusion you might conjur up. The front passenger air vents blow out a form of smoke every time the air conditioner is on, and we like to tell frightened newcomers that it is the hot tomale poison.

Sadly, this tried and true piece of equipment is on its last tire. After a recent rainstorm, the leak has taken over the whole car. There is fog on all the windows....on the inside. Just like a small bathroom gets foggy after a hot shower. From a scientific perspective, this means that mold has consumed the interior of the car.

Now, the Hot Tomale has a new name : Rotten Tomale. It is nothing more than a piece of fungus growing on the driveway. It still drives normally, but it is a health hazard to all who come within a 100 yard radius. Fortunately, a new car is on the horizon. But unfortunately, the Hot Tomale is about to kick the bucket.

The lessons this car taught me will never be forgotten. I have learned that when you pull up at a redlight and look over to see a hot shot in a lifted Chevy, it doesnt matter the look on his face or what he thinks of you. Because guess what? My Father in heaven doesn't care what im driving. In fact, i could be driving a 2011 Porsche and it wouldn't make a difference to Him.

a nice car isn't of eternal value.

R.I.P. Hot Tomale.

south of the Mason-Dixon line

 If a trip to a sporting event south of the Mason-Dixon line doesn't launch you into a philosophical explanation of human nature, then I don't know what will. While the majority of the United States take place in typical autumn Saturday activities such as watching cartoons, raking leaves, and eating hot chocolate....the Southern United States are overcome by a greed and competition fest that is unmatched by any other in the history of mankind. But before I explain myself, you must grasp a geographical explanation of the area I am speaking of.

To begin with, the season of fall in the South is more like a continuation of summer. That is, the thermostat doesn't even approach the 50's until mid-October. As Southern people check their weekend forecast as they prepare for a football game, they will often see that it is snowing in Pittsburgh. (Bless their hearts) But I am getting side-tracked...

Popular sports in the South consist of football, football, and football. Maybe baseball when football season ends. But not always. Most true fans are already looking at recruitment and summer practices as soon as the National Championship ends in January.

A typical college campus in the fall is decked out in school colors, crowds of rabid fans, and trash talking like you wouldn't believe. Often the baseball and soccer field parking lots are completely over run by an army of campers proudly bearing the college logo. Fans set up tents, bring out their grills, and then proceed to sit around drinking beer and talking about their team in terms that an outsider would think they were referring to either a dearly loved child, or an annoying in-law. In other words, true fans are obnoxiously proud of their team, but also have the ability to cut their team down in a most appalling manner.

My earliest memories are of the University of Alabama fight song being posted on our refrigerator and being forced to learn every word. I also remember asking for an Alabama cheerleading outfit every Christmas until approximately the ripe old age of 12. I remember going to games as a child, decked out with an Alabama shirt, sweatshirt, face paint, crimson and white ribbons in my hair, pom poms in my hand, and pom poms sticking out of every possible place on my person. I remember trotting along as fast as possible while my grandfather barreled toward the stadium, carrying his seat cushions and his radio headpiece. I most distinctly remember crying after losing to LSU in over time after a previously undefeated season.

Wait a second - crying? Yes. Crying. My grandfather always goes outside to do yard work when Bama is losing...we always joke about it, but crying and doing yardwork could possibly be the sign of heart issue.

Wait just another second - a heart issue? Relax a little, we are talking about college football here. Exactly! College football, where a rabid fan will blow $1500 for one ticket to a game. College football, where friendships and relationships will be put under pressure and sometimes even hurt because of the competitive nature. College football, where coaches will lie, cheat, and steal to get the player they desire. College football, where even the FBI will get called in to investigate cases of foul play. College football, where people will storm the field, burn monuments, and foster bitterness and anger in their hearts when their team loses.

My dad always quotes Matthew by saying "Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also". I may not have a lot of money and earthly riches, but i surely do treasure the athletic program at the University of Alabama. there is a fine line between enjoying something, and idolizing it. And that is my challenge to all football fans of the world - put your treasure in heaven, not on the 50 yard line.

its november and its 90 degrees

turning twenty.

The end of October always means one thing - I'm about to turn one year older. In the past, this has always been an exciting thing. Turning 15 meant a driver's permit. turning 16 meant a driver's license, and the keys to the old hot tamale. turning 17 meant...another year older (and closer to 21!). and so it continues.

The other day, a friend who is in her late twenties asked me if I was sad to be turning 20, and suddenly not being a teenager anymore. That struck me as an interesting question. Should I be sad to be turning 20? Should all fun and happiness be over since I'm not 19 anymore? That is certainly a common belief...but is it true?

If I was to write a letter to myself the summer before my freshman year of high school, here are a list of things I would say.

1) Don't care so much about what other people think of you. I know its hard to believe that at 14 years old, when all that matters is the latest pair of american eagle jeans...and that brand new cell phone you just spent your allowance on. But seriously - the people you hang out with now won't remember your name in 5 years, so who cares what they think?

2) A friend who gossips to you, will gossip ABOUT you. don't trust people so easily - be more discerning.

3) always tell the truth to your best friend. a best friend is someone who knows everything about you...and loves you anyways. a best friend is someone who encourages you spiritually, who shares in your laughter, and who is there through your tears. 

4) don't think so much about boys!! They don't matter. The Lord will bring the right man in your life, and you literally have NO control over it. God can give emotions, take away emotions, provide desirable circumstances, and take them away. Of all the things i've learned through my relationship with Ross, one thing stands out to me the most - I have absolutely no control over our future. Only God does. He controls the course of our lives, and I MUST surrender to Him. God is a jealous God, He will destroy the idols of your heart. Don't let that person become an idol.

 5) Don't stress. Don't worry. Focus on the Lord. Whatever is so horrible right now - well, it won't be horrible at all later. Life is easy, you have no responsibility or cares. enjoy it.

6) Keep a journal. seriously, your memory will fade faster than you can imagine, but a journal lasts a long time.

7) Appearances change. Don't put so much value in your looks. Fashions change - so quickly! So many truly beautiful women are SO insecure. God made you perfectly. Celebrate His perfect design in the way you dress, the way you carry yourself, and the way you interact with others. Model inward beauty.

8) Never underestimate the power of forgiveness. Hatred and bitterness eat away at your soul - God forgave you when you were the dirtiest of all sinners. Beg Him to enable you to do the same. Don't allow past grudges to control present relationships. Always give others the benefit of the doubt!

9) Be gracious in relationships."Here are few simple ways to wreck a relationship: listen to gossip, be controlling, be easily offended. Being controlling is a sure way to have people flee from you. Being easily offended is a sure way of living life in misery and ensuring those around you feel miserable too."

10) Don't look forward to the future too much - enjoy each and every passing day. I still struggle with this daily. When things get rough, it's tempting to look ahead to "Well, things will be better when..." Wrong. They won't. Contentment begins in the heart, and it can only be cultivated through a cheerful attitude in all aspects of life.

11) the past 10 things i've listed mean nothing without a personal relationship with your Savior. He is the only One who can enable you to survive this crazy life, and the only One who can make you a better person because of it. surrender - what a daunting word. beg Him to take control. Never get to the point in your life where you feel like you've become the woman you wanted to be. Always be asking Christ to shape you, to change you, and to make you more like Himself. 

living the perfect life isn't of eternal value. Having the best car, the best hair, the coolest friend, the perfect family, the most desired body, the best athletic ability, the most fun personality, the best college education, and the most money won't mean a thing when you get to heaven. Remember that, believe it, and live that belief every day. 


The bride eyes not her garment,
But her dear Bridegroom’s face;
I will not gaze at glory
But on my King of grace.
Not at the crown He giveth
But on His pierced hand;
The Lamb is all the glory
Of Emmanuel’s land.

 

"We are halfhearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased." - C.S. Lewis

take me to the fair

It's that time of year again...crisp autumn air, beautiful oranges and browns and golds, football season (roll tide), approaching holidays, and the thrill of settling into a routine. "is this the beginning of a hallmark card?" some of you might be wondering....and the answer is, no.

  this is simply my first authentic attempt to blog about a very real and present danger that is threatening society today. most Americans think about the season of autumn in terms of Charlie Brown and the Great Pumpkin, or cheering their favorite football team on to victory. To me, it is a season of obsession with one of the most dangerous and highly addictive past-times of the American public - the county fair.

Is my perspective a bit dramatic? We shall see.

Take a close look at this photograph of spinning colors and flashing lights. You can almost hear the carnival music in the background, playing the never ending tune of "The Ants are Marching One by One". Can you smell the funnel cakes and boiled peanuts? Can you imagine the children laughing and screaming in delight as they ride the ferris wheel, and win that stuffed toy they begged their daddy for? I like to envision the opening scene of "The Notebook", where Noah jumps on the ferris wheel and hangs on the top just to get Ally to agree to go on a date with him.

Excuse me, but if this isn't the hollywood version of a county fair, then i don't know what is. The days of Charlotte's Web are long gone, and a typical county fair today takes on a completely different face.

Upon arriving at the fair, you are herded into a parking lot, aka - an old pasture, by a huge escort of police cars with flashing lights. After hiding every valuable posession in the glove compartment of your car, you exit while gripping your child's hand with every ounce of nervous anticipation possible. You strictly tell them not to get lost in the crowd, don't talk to strangers, and for heaven's sake...leave your blanket in the car! You shell out $20 at the front gate for admission, and as soon as you get in you shell out another $40 for a roll of tickets to use at all the rides. Then you realize that you haven't eaten dinner yet. The kids are too awe-struck by all the shady characters flocking around you that they don't even realize you are about a mile ahead of them on a hunt for some type of affordable dinner option. oh wait - funnel cakes cost $5. Well, popcorn it is then. just drink water from the bathroom faucet, i'm not paying $4 for a Dasani water bottle!
After dinner is under control, the kids begin begging to ride the contraptions all around you. As you observe the unsavory character that is operating the Carousel, you wonder how loopy he is at this moment. and what he was smoking when he unloaded the carousel off the truck and tightened all those bolts as he went over his "safety checklist." yikes. So you move on. You settle yourself in the spinning "Himalayas", and then you realize that your seat belt is broken. And there is vomit on the floorboard. you switch to a different seat, and then scream your head off as your insides get bounced around in a most atrocious manner. The higschool drop-out attendent who ushers you out the gate has probably spent their life's savings on tatoos and has pierced every piercable surface on their body....and then some.

After a long night of blowing $100 on rides, foods, and various games, you gather up your crowd and start trekking out to the car. On the way out, a fight begins between gang members, and people start screaming and running every direction. Where are the cops? Who knows. Oh look, a flying trashcan. Let's get out of here.

All in all, it was a successful night at the fair. As you lay your weary head down to rest, a pounding headache begins to emerge from somewhere deep inside your shaken and sadly mistreated brain. All of that cost and misery for one night at the fair. and i'll bet a bag of boiled peanuts that you will find yourself in the same place again next year....wondering what on earth has gotten into your head again.

bubble gum and pink toenails

see? artsy title. already off to a running start.

people who blog normally fit into one of these 3 categories: the intellectual college/highschool student, the indie-loving artist who stands for peace and trees and loves to eat granola, and then the stay-at-home-mom who has 7 beautiful children that she takes pictures of constantly and blogs recipes that she created from the cow growing in her backyard.

this post is why i shouldn't blog. here are my 8 reasons. please, hear me out.

1. bloggers are abstract and intellectual. i would like to think that i am intellectual and abstract, but why kid myself? i am lacking the fundamental needed to be an effective blogger.

2. there isn't an artsy bone in my body. the phrase "arts and crafts" makes me want to throw up a little in my mouth. i'd rather die than use that side of my brain.

3. i fail to notice the simple things in life. we are always inspired by the blogger who posts pictures taken by her $1500 camera of the random butterfly gracefully mounted on a beautiful rosebush....im the person who doesn't notice the butterfly until it is smashed on my windshield.

4. indie and boho style stresses me out. no, i don't know how to pair a belt and a skirt, and i also do not wish for dreadlocks. what is wrong with me?


5. i have no appreciation for indie or underground music. if it isn't good enough to make mainstream, then it isn't good enough to listen to. tim mcgraw and lynard skynard all the way.


6.i hate coffee. aren't bloggers supposed to sit at starbucks for hours on end, sipping their lite grande caramel mocha and pondering the injustices around them? i ponder best sitting on my front porch eating sunflower seeds and smoking cloves

7. my life is boring.  i cant think of a way to dramatize my life enough to make it worthy of reading about. its boring.

8. there aren't any beautiful children surrounding me or cows growing in my backyard. nope, no kids or cow anywhere on the horizon.

bottom line....i am the anti-blogger. or at least, i want to think that i am. the truth is that those peace-loving, tree-hugging, granola-eating, cow-growing, injustice-pondering bloggers in the world posess a quality that i desperately wish i had......creativity.

here is my attempt at creativity.

-ragan
(how do i sign my name? just a letter? or my initials? do i develop my own copyright? help me out here.)